


for blue skies

by suituuup



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28389642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suituuup/pseuds/suituuup
Summary: Beca sees Chloe for the first time two years after their break-up
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 50
Kudos: 135





	for blue skies

Beca is most definitely too sober for this. 

She should have broken into her hotel room mini bar like she was craving to, just for something to take the edge off. As the car rolls to a stop in front of the building, nerves twist her insides. She’s about to ask the driver to turn around because this feels like a terrible idea, when her phone set in her lap lights up with a new text. 

**Stacie**

_You better not be second-guessing this, Mitchell._

Grumbling something inaudible under her breath, Beca briefly shuts her eyes and swallows, her fingers curling around the door handle and pulling before she can backtrack. She slides out of the vehicle and glances up at the building towering before her, tucking her phone in her clutch as she starts inside. 

Following an elevator ride, she finds herself in front of Aubrey’s door, the music and chatter muffled as it carries through the thin surface. Beca licks her dry lips and knocks three times, tucking each side of her long hair behind her ears -- a nervous habit of hers -- and smoothing down her burgundy suit jacket while she waits. 

Light floods the hallway as the door swings open, Aubrey standing on the other side. Her hair is shorter, styled in a bob, and her make-up is a bit heavier than usual. It suits her. 

“Beca,” Aubrey greets, her smile warm and genuine as she steps aside to let Beca through. She pulls Beca in a loose hug, short enough that Beca doesn’t have time to grow uncomfortable. “I’m happy you could make it.”

“Happy birthday,” Beca says as she backs away, her own lips curving in an also genuine smile, if not a little strained with nerves at the corners. She holds up the top-shelf liquor bottle held in her right hand. “You still like scotch, right?” 

Aubrey nods, her slender fingers wrapping around the body of the bottle as her eyes flick down to the label. A delicate eyebrow raises. “Scottish? Nice.” 

Beca shrugs. “I was told it’s the best.” 

“It is. Thank you.” 

Beca nods and allows her eyes to flit across the room as she ventures further inside Aubrey’s gorgeous loft, scanning the thirty or so faces, most unknown. She’s kidding herself by pretending she’s not chasing after a specific one, the knots in her stomach unwinding just a bit when she realizes _she_ isn’t here, yet. 

Yet, because she knows there’s no way Chloe would miss her best friend’s 30th birthday party. 

“Shawshank!”

A pair of strong arms hoist her up from behind, jolting Beca from her thoughts. She squeaks, kicking her legs a little when they come off the ground a couple inches. “Ames, Jesus,” she hisses. “Put me down, dude.”

She straightens her suit jacket when Amy finally takes pity, grumbling as she spins around. 

“Nice of you to finally take a night off,” the Australian mutters, but there’s no bite to her tone, only light teasing. “I’ve missed your murderous glares and perpetual grumpiness.” 

“Fuck off,” Beca grumbles, catching herself before she can glare at her friend and prove her right. Her head snaps over her shoulder when she hears Aubrey greet someone at the door, her heart doing a somersault as soon as that melodic, warm childlike laughter hits her ears. 

She had braced herself for this moment all day long and figured she would be fine after two years, but the kaleidoscope of feelings spilling out from somewhere within her upon seeing Chloe for the first time since their break-up triggers a dizzying spell that makes her sway on her feet. 

Beca swallows the acid taste settling on her tongue. “I need a drink.” 

She doesn’t wait for a reply and disappears towards the kitchen without knowing if Chloe noticed her in turn. 

“She’s here!” Stacie exclaims as soon Beca rounds the corner, raising her glass in celebration. Her eyes sweep over Beca’s figure, over her deep burgundy suit left open to reveal a low cut, lace trimmed satin top. “ _Damn_. You look hot. Anyone you’re looking to impress tonight?” 

Beca rolls her eyes, awkwardly patting Stacie’s back when she steps up to hug her. “Good to see you, Conrad.” 

She moves to the counter to make herself a drink, grasping the bottle of whiskey and pouring some in a tumbler before knocking it back. 

“That bad, huh?” 

Beca only offers a grunt, wincing as the liquid burns her throat. 

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” Stacie admits as she watches Beca fix herself another drink. “We all missed you. We haven’t had a reunion since you guys broke up, and frankly? It sucks. The Bellas are not the Bellas without you or Chloe missing.” 

Beca’s shoulders slump. She’s never stopped to think about how she and Chloe breaking up affected the Bellas besides them having two different group chats, and guilt swoops in, flooding her insides. “Dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Don’t sweat it,” Stacies assures her, winking softly. “Try having some fun, alright?”

That second drink manages to loosen Beca up a little. It’s definitely a more laid-back party than the ones she’s used to, very Aubrey-like with sophisticated drinks and stuck-up lawyers. She chats with Jessica and Ashley for a while, then catches up with Emily (they’ve seen each other here and there on the red carpet) and listens to one of Amy’s crazy stories. 

She successfully manages to avoid Chloe, though that doesn’t mean she hasn’t allowed her gaze to linger whenever her ex-girlfriend happened to be in her line of sight. She’s as beautiful as Beca remembers, radiating that same sunshine Beca fell for back in Barden.

Halfway through the evening and feeling sufficiently buzzed, Beca steps out on the balcony for a smoke. She sets her glass on the railing as she fishes out her pack of cigarettes out of her slacks pocket. Plucking one out along with the lighter tucked inside, she brings it to her lips and sets the pack next to her drink, cupping her now free hand around her mouth to shield the cigarette from the wind while she lights it. 

“Hey.” 

Beca’s spine snaps straight, her shoulders tensing for a moment as her breathing freezes. Once the shock has subsided, she takes a drag and spares Chloe a glance over her shoulder, facing the view a beat later as she exhales. She watches the smoke climb up towards the starless sky, trying to ignore the way her heart starts to race out of control. 

“Hey,” she echoes, raising the cigarette to her mouth to take another drag, because she has no idea what else Chloe expects her to say. 

She hears the sliding door shut and Chloe’s heels clicking against the wooden slats as she takes a few steps forward, appearing in Beca’s periphery on the other end of the balcony. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” Chloe murmurs, bracing both hands on the railing. 

“Me either to be honest,” Beca admits, releasing another cloud of smoke. “Congratulations on graduating vet school, by the way.” 

Following the break-up, Beca often found herself asking Stacie how Chloe was doing. 

“Oh. Thanks. You, too. For all the awards and stuff.” 

She guesses Chloe did the same thing, or maybe she just happened to come across it when it popped up in various media. 

Beca nods. She used to think being successful in music would make her happy, and it’s the case, but she quickly realized that having no one to share that happiness with made it pretty pointless. She really could have had everything if she hadn’t fucked up, and seeing Chloe here tonight and realizing her heart hasn’t moved on only picked at that scab. 

Her response is mumbled around the cigarette, “Thanks.” 

“So how have you been?” 

A snicker flits through Beca’s lips before she can leash it in. “I really can’t do this, Chlo.” She stubs out her cigarette before she’s done and pockets her pack, grasping her drink next. “I’m heading back inside.” 

Beca doesn’t stick around much longer after that, the weight of regret crushing her partying spirits. She hugs Aubrey before she leaves, thanking her for the invite, and promises Stacie and Amy she’ll make time for them in the near future so they can hang. 

Her thoughts are clouded by Chloe on the drive back to the hotel, and the first thing she does when she reaches her room is to open the mini-bar and make herself a drink. She kicks off her heels next and plops down on a chaise, propping her bare feet on the coffee table as she grabs her phone and opens Instagram. She’s typing Chloe’s name before she can help herself, and spends the next twenty minutes scrolling through her many pictures. Her relief upon finding no hint of Chloe being in a relationship morphs into suffocating ache as she scrolls back enough to _their_ pictures. She figured Chloe had deleted them, and seeing her happiest self feels like a slap in the face. 

“Fuck,” Beca croaks out, locking her phone and tossing it aside as she berates herself for doing something she swore to herself she’d never do; opening a door to the past. A knock on the _actual_ door puts a stop to her reeling mind and she straightens, her brow furrowed. 

Pushing to her feet, she pads across the carpeted floor of her room and doesn’t think to check the peephole, her fingers curving around the knob and twisting. 

Chloe. 

Beca blinks. “What are you doing here?” Her tone carries more surprise than the coldness it adorned back on the balcony. 

She briefly wonders _how_ Chloe knows in which hotel, let alone which room she’s staying in, before remembering she gave Stacie that info in case her friend needed a place to crash. 

Chloe pushes inside before Beca can object, whirling around on her. “You don’t get to do that.” 

Beca flinches at the tone and the uncharacteristic anger flashing in Chloe’s eyes. “Do… what?” She questions, pushing the door shut and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Chloe points a finger at her. “You don’t get to act cold and distant when _you_ were the one to break my heart.” 

Her words stun Beca into a long stretch of silence. Chloe puffs out what sounds like a frustrated breath. 

“I want us to be civil towards one another, for the girls’ sake, and I _tried_ tonight, but you just--” Her palm comes down on her thigh as she shakes her head. “You didn’t give it a chance and walked away like _I_ was the one who hurt you.” 

“No, it’s not--” Beca exhales through her nose as her arms drop by her sides. “It’s not why I walked away.” 

“Why did you then?” 

Beca grits her teeth and closes her eyes for a second. “Chlo…” 

A scoff puffs free and Beca looks up to find tears gathering in Chloe’s eyes. She rolls them skyward and purses her lips, seemingly trying to get a hold of her emotions. “This is like two years ago all over again. I don’t even know why I came here, you clearly haven’t changed.” 

Chloe walks past her, and it takes everything in Beca to come out with it; to split herself open. “I walked away because I regret it. Everything. Breaking up with you, _hurting_ you and ruining the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

She hears Chloe’s breathing hitch as she stops on her way to the door, sees the way her tense shoulders slump. Beca slowly turns and lifts her gaze, meeting Chloe’s surprised one. “I made the biggest mistake of my life that day and seeing you tonight made me realize what I had lost.”

She can only focus on her heartbeat over the next handful of seconds, drumming in her ears as she waits for Chloe to say something. 

“Beca,” Chloe croaks out, her throat bobbing up and down in a swallow. “I spent the last two years wondering why you did it. Everything-- everything was _perfect_ , why-why did you break up with me?” 

Beca licks her dry lips and releases a much needed breath. “I found the engagement ring in your bedside table drawer, and I got scared.” 

Beca remembers it very clearly; the panic that engulfed her when she stumbled on the square velvet box hosting a princess cut ring. Her commitment issues and fear of abandonment had been lurking in a dark alleyway of her subconscious, unnoticed until then.

Realization dawns in Chloe’s blue eyes, and her mouth moves wordlessly for a few beats. “Why--why didn’t you just tell me that? We would have talked about it.” 

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” Beca mutters, the emotions seizing her throat and leaking in her tone. “And my insecurities got caught into the mix and I started convincing myself you deserved someone better. Someone who could give you everything you ever wanted.” 

“You really thought getting married was everything I wanted?” Chloe’s voice breaks as she shakes her head. Those tears in her eyes look dangerously close to spilling. “ _You_ were. I didn’t care under which form, as long as I had you, because _fuck_ , Beca, I was so _happy_. Because of _you._ ” 

Vine twine sprouts within the cavities of Beca’s chest, snaking around her heart and lungs and squeezing so painfully breathing begins to prove difficult. 

The _what-ifs_ and _should haves_ form and twist in a torturous, endless loop in her brain. Beca feels a headache prick behind her skull as she fights back against her own tears.

“I should go,” Chloe whispers when Beca remains silent, breaking eye-contact. “Take care of yourself, Beca.” 

Her hand shoots up as Chloe starts to turn away, manicured fingers loosely wrapping around Chloe’s wrist. Her skin is as smooth and warm as Beca remembers. Beca takes a step forward to crush the distance between them and captures Chloe’s lips in a searing, desperate kiss. 

She expects Chloe to push her away, maybe slap her, even. But after a beat of shock, Chloe is kissing her back, and Beca’s knees threaten to keel as a mixture of almost foreign, forgotten sensations seize her body as their lips dance against each other just as flawlessly as before. 

Her other hand curls around Chloe’s hip bone, the material of her dress soft under the pads of her fingers as she gently pushes Chloe against the wall. The whimper reverberating into the liplock shoots a shiver down Beca’s spine as one of Chloe’s hands hikes up, fingers tangling in her brunette locks. 

Oxygen soon becomes an issue, but Beca is almost afraid to pull away, to snap back to reality. 

“Don’t go,” she murmurs when they part, a desperate edge to her tone that she’s never heard before. Years later, it’s still around Chloe Beale that she’s her most vulnerable. Her forehead comes to rest over Chloe’s, steel blue eyes locking with ocean ones. “Please.” 

Chloe doesn’t say anything; she tugs Beca forward and fuses their lips back together, her yearning translating in the aggressiveness of her movements as she kisses Beca hard like she’s too, chasing after that lost thrill. 

No words are uttered as they stumble back towards the bed in the middle of the room. Beca’s suit jacket goes, followed by Chloe’s dress and shortly after, Beca’s slacks. Beca’s mind short-circuits as Chloe lies under her, ethereal looking with those darkened eyes, kiss-swollen lips and fiery red hair fanning out around her face. 

Her hands plant on the mattress as she sucks on Chloe’s pulsepoint, knowing how that specific spot always used to make her keel. It still does, according to the sounds booming against the walls. Resisting the burning desire to leave a mark, Beca lets her lips trail further down, across Chloe’s collar bone and towards her breast, closing around a pebbled nipple. 

“Bec,” Chloe croaks out, her back arching off the bed when Beca bites on it, soothing the sting with a flick of her tongue. Her fingers tangle on Beca’s hair and pull, as though she hasn’t forgotten what Beca likes, either. 

One of Beca’s hands skims lower, across Chloe’s stomach, dipping between her legs. The wet lace she finds there makes her groan against Chloe’s breast, and she releases the pink bud with a pop, wanting to watch Chloe’s expression as her fingers move the material aside to slide through Chloe’s slick. 

Her forehead drops to gently rest against Chloe’s as she gathers her essence and rubs it around her clit in slow, circular motions. Chloe’s hips rhythmically rock against the contact, her hand holding onto Beca’s bicep as her breathing turns to pants.

“More,” she rasps, her short nails digging into Beca’s skin. 

Beca can only oblige and dips the tips of her index and middle fingers inside her wet, welcoming heat, a groan flitting past her lips at the feeling of Chloe’s tightness. She draws them out and sinks back in, curling the tips against Chloe’s smooth walls. 

The sounds her ministrations pull from Chloe nearly make her dizzy with want, to a degree she’s never experienced before. Taking hints from Chloe’s vocal cues, Beca picks up in rhythm, using her thumb to rub tight circles over Chloe’s clit as her fingers pump in and out of her. 

“Don’t stop,” Chloe chokes out, her lids sliding shut and her lips parting in an O shape as her walls clench then pulse around Beca’s digits. The noise Chloe makes as she comes, unbridled and of a raw intensity, makes Beca shudder. She peppers soft kisses along Chloe’s collar bone as her body trembles through her climax, tugging her fingers free when she relaxes. 

Her own body is buzzing with barely restrained arousal by this point, and she groans when Chloe switches their position, kissing her way down Beca’s body towards where Beca needs her the most. 

The night’s emotional and physical drain soon takes a toll on Beca, and she falls asleep in the morning’s early hours, waking to the sounds of rustling sometime later. The sun has yet to rise, but it’s not dark enough outside for it to still be the middle of the night. 

Her heart drops to the bottom of her stomach as she watches Chloe zip up her dress, Chloe momentarily freezing upon realizing Beca is awake. 

“Hey.” Beca’s voice comes out gruff from the dryness in her throat as she sits up, holding the sheet to her chest. 

“Hi.” Chloe clears her throat. “Can I use your phone? Mine’s dead and I need to call a cab.” 

Beca nods, tilting her chin towards the coffee table. “It’s over there.” 

“Thanks.” 

While Chloe makes the call, Beca grabs a shirt and a pair of shorts from her open suitcase, pulling them on. 

“They said twenty minutes. I’ll-I’ll go wait in the lobby.” 

“You can wait here,” Beca says, her chest aching from how fast Chloe seems to want to get away from her. She tentatively steps closer. “Can we… talk?” 

“What’s there to say?” Chloe questions, tilting her head to the side and lifting her gaze to meet Beca’s for the first time since Beca woke up. “We were drunk and we made a mistake. This shouldn’t have happened.” 

Beca tries but fails not to let Chloe’s words sting. She stupidly let herself believe last night might mean something. “So that’s it?” She asks, even though she already knows the answer. Beca grits her teeth to keep her shit together as she throws her heart out there, knowing damn well it’s bound to be stepped on. “I’m still in love with you, Chlo. I… I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.” 

Chloe’s eyes shut for a moment, her features scrunching up. “Beca, I…” 

Beca takes another few steps, gently bracing her hands on Chloe’s hips. “I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go. Please give me another chance. I promise I won’t screw it up, Chlo.” When Chloe doesn’t back away, she cranes her neck slightly, brushing a barely there, tentative kiss to Chloe’s lips. “I love you.” 

For a moment she believes Chloe’s resolve might break, that her heart might win the war against her brain. Because as clueless as Beca is when it comes to other people’s feelings, Chloe has always been the exception, and after last night, she _knows_ there’s still a part of Chloe that feels something for her. 

“Stop,” Chloe croaks out, taking a step back as if burned. Beca hangs her head, her hands curling into fists by her sides. “You broke my trust when you broke my heart. It took me a _year_ to get better and I can’t-- I can’t go through that again. I _won’t_.” Chloe inhales sharply, blinking back the tears swimming in her eyes. “If you love me like you claim to, please respect that.” 

Beca grits her teeth in a poor attempt to keep her shit together. She gives a stiff nod, unable to look at Chloe for fear of crumbling under the weight of the emotions bubbling up her chest. 

The door clicks shut half a minute later. Chloe’s heels echo down the hall, gradually fading away, until all that surrounds Beca is a heavy silence. 


End file.
